


A Dream and A Miracle

by daviesroyal



Series: The Slow Road to Redemption [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Leverage
Genre: A wild Lucifer appears, Also a wild Mazikeen, Eliot and Lindsey are the same person, Eliot just wants to protect his team, He has some unresolved issues with the local vampires, LA is not a good place for the team to be, M/M, Mentions of Lucifer (TV), Not safe at all, These two were not supposed to get involved, just FYI, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11571864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daviesroyal/pseuds/daviesroyal
Summary: Eliot is willing to work with this new team, see how things play out. He just wishes it wasn't in Los Angeles. The last time he was here, an old friend shot him.Twice.





	1. In Which Eliot Arrives in LA and Lindsey Has a Long Overdue Conversation with Angel

Despite everyone going their separate ways after Chicago, it doesn’t take long before Hardison’s calling them all back together.

Eliot’s in Berlin, finishing up a job when his phone rings. The guy holding a gun on him is easily taken care of, and he’s on his way to Hardison’s coordinates in no time.

He pauses inside LAX, reassuring himself by looking out at the morning sun. Los Angeles is dangerous enough for most people, the ones who don’t know what happens when the sun sets. It’s even more dangerous for him; his face hasn’t changed, and plenty of people will still be around who’d recognize Lindsey McDonald.

Normally, he tries to avoid lingering in the same places over multiple lives. Give it half a century, and most mortals are dead or old enough that the resemblance is passed off as coincidence. Vampires and demons don’t quite fit under the same definition of mortal as humans, and returning to Angel’s city is like walking into an active minefield.

He doesn’t doubt that the vampire will still be here, if he’s still alive. Eliot knows he can handle that confrontation, even if the higher powers come into play. No, he’s worried about his team. Angel is still Angelus enough to take out his hatred of Lindsey on Eliot’s new team.

He can’t let that happen. So he’ll keep his head down, hope his team doesn’t attract supernatural attention, and that they won’t stick around LA for very long.

Maybe his luck has improved.

* * *

His luck has not improved.

Their first job had drawn enough attention, taking on a private army and stealing back the money the US government ‘lost’ in Iraq. The second job isn’t much better. They move on from private armies to the local Italian mob boss, not to mention pretending to be FBI agents  _ in front of actual FBI agents. _ Taking down two heavy hitters in town, even if both of them were human, is going to cause a stir.

He’s thankful that the next two jobs have him out of LA. He’s still pissed at Hardison for bailing on them because of a game, even if the young genius does manage to stop their plane from crashing in the end, but he’s angrier at Nate for his behavior in Miami. The so-called ‘Mastermind’ is risking all of them by drinking on the job, and Eliot’s not sure how much longer Sophie can keep Nate from going off the rails and dragging everyone along with him.

Somehow, they don’t get caught, the marks are in jail, and the clients are satisfied. Nate’s...not better, not really, but he’s focusing more. Eliot forces himself to ignore it and lets Sophie convince him to come to one of her plays.

It might actually be the worst decision he’s ever made.

Thankfully their next job distracts her, and the only downside is that it involves a church. Eliot’s made a point to avoid churches during his long life, but this one is about to be destroyed and Nate’s friend is the one asking.

He finds it hilarious that Nate actually went to seminary school for a while, but he doesn’t know how to feel about faking a miracle. He’s seen too many miracles to think the same way about them as the rest of the team. He doesn’t think God will care too much, He hasn’t about any other miracles faked by humans, and this one is for a good cause. But it still makes him uneasy.

The fake crying statue is a hit with the mortals, of course, but then ‘Bibletopia’ happens and the Vatican shows up and it all starts going to shit.

Hardison is sure God will smite them all. Eliot’s pretty sure his Grandfather is actually laughing his ass off at them. He doesn’t have a nephew that would like Bibletopia, but he thinks some of his family would get a kick out of it.

And then wipe it off the face of the planet.

Nate’s trying to figure out a way to unravel his own con without implicating his friend, and Eliot’s about two seconds away from pulling off a real miracle (of sorts) just to get them out of this when Nate proclaims they’ll steal the statue in the middle of tomorrow’s mass.

He really hopes Nate knows what the fuck he’s doing.

They switch out the statues again, make sure the real one will be left in Grant’s car and Parker will be able to lift another fake one out of the church. After that, there’s no point sticking around or going back to the offices, and they scatter.

Eliot decides to walk back to his place, and only makes it a few blocks before feeling eyes on his back. He knew that church was too close to his old stomping grounds.

Instead of turning towards his apartment, Eliot turns towards the seedier parts of LA. The parts rife with demons, where no one would bat an eye at the confrontation about to occur.

He makes it another block before Angel makes his move. The vampire crashes into him from the side, pushing him into the alley wall. Angel backs off as quickly as he came, letting Eliot  _ (Lindsey) _ bounce off the wall onto the ground. The Irish vampire is standing further into the alley than him, and Eliot wonders why he wouldn’t―oh.

Spike is standing at the mouth of the alley, and Lindsey frowns. Neither of them are human, and he’d read that prophecy scroll. Shanshu is legitimate. Unless…

“Unless it means the final apocalypse,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Fucking Powers.”

“You’re looking pretty lively for a dead man,” Spike says, stepping forward aggressively. Lindsey eyes him briefly, then looks at Angel.

“Heard from Lorne?” he asks coldly. The vampire flinches. “Didn’t think so. I understand you not having the balls to kill me yourself, but  _ Lorne? _ How could you make  _ him _ do it,  _ Angelus?” _

That strikes a nerve, and Angel lunges forward with a snarl. But he’s not Lindsey anymore, not really, and Eliot is much closer to his first self than he’s been in centuries. It’s easy to sidestep the attack, to use Angel’s momentum to put him down hard. He swivels so his back is to the wall, even though it puts both vampires in the way of his only exit.

“What’s he talking about, Angel?” Spike’s confused, though it’s slowly giving way to anger. Something Eliot said must have caught his attention.

“Lorne was the closest thing I had to a friend, even when he was on your team,” Eliot continues. Angel says nothing. “Were you trying to punish him too? For not killing for you before then?”

“That has nothing to do with it,” Angel growls. There’s definitely more anger in Spike’s expression now.

“What happened?” the blond snarls. Angel doesn’t answer, so Eliot does.

“After I took care of the Sahvrin, Lorne had orders to shoot me. Orders from Angel, despite the fact that I was on his side,” he adds, matching the older vampire’s glare.

“The only side you fight for is your own,” Angel snorts. Eliot  _ (barely) _ resists the urge to smite him.

“You told one of your allies to kill another one?” Spike asks. There’s not as much disbelief as there probably should be. “Not very Champion-like, is it?”

And that...Eliot hadn’t thought about that. He peers closer, looking at Angel’s vaunted soul. The demon―Angelus―swirls around the soul angrily, but he can’t destroy it, and he can’t make it leave. The soul itself is tarnished, severely so, and just barely qualifying as a Champion’s. Angel’s not out of the game, not yet, but he’s close.

“Lindsey wasn’t my ally,” Angel counters. Eliot rolls his eyes.

“Just because you didn’t think so doesn’t mean I wasn’t,” he points out. “And it doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m out of that game.”

A blatant lie; considering who he is, he’ll never be out of the game.

Angel seems to agree with him, despite not knowing who he actually is.

“As fun―and informative―as this little reunion was,” Spike drawls, sending Angel a pointed glance, “we’ve got other things to worry about. So,  _ Doyle, _ if you wouldn’t mind getting out of our city?”

Eliot stills. “I can’t do that.”

The vampires are not happy. “Why the hell not?” Angel snarls, getting right back up in his personal space again. Lindsey would’ve been intimidated and afraid and a little aroused, and trying not to show it. Eliot is not intimidated or afraid, he knows he can take Angel in a fight, especially if he doesn’t hold back. The arousal is a byproduct of adrenaline that’s easy to ignore.

“Got a job to do,” he says, refusing to elaborate. “I’ll leave when the job’s done.”

He’ll leave when the team does, when they’re forced out or choose to relocate. But he’s not going to tell a vampire that. Especially not  _ these _ vampires.

“Not good enough,” Angel says, taking another step. He’s practically plastered against Eliot now, and it would take no effort at all to kick both their asses. He doesn’t want to kill them, not really, hadn’t even when he was Lindsey. Despite what the Senior Partners thought before that last battle, Angel and Spike won’t ever fight for them, and Eliot’s not going to kill two pivotal players in an apocalypse unless it becomes absolutely necessary.

He stares Angel down, unflinching, while Spike rolls his eyes and wanders off to go kill something. Lindsey had nothing to fight for but himself. Eliot has a hell of a lot more to lose.

Still, he can’t quite resist taunting the vampire once more. “What is it that really bugs you, Angel? That I didn’t die like you planned, or that you didn’t know I survived?”

Angel snarls and pins him to the wall again. Eliot lets him, if only because he’s curious how this will turn out. But Angel doesn’t answer, just holds Eliot to the wall with his body and glares at him. Eliot doesn’t know if Angel refuses to answer out of spite, or if he doesn’t even know himself.

Fine. Whatever. It’s not Eliot’s problem anymore. He shoves the vampire away easily, sidestepping the clumsy attempt at a grab. “I’m not here to mess with you, Angel. You leave me alone and it’ll be like I’m not even in the city.”

“You’re always up to something, Lindsey,” Angel snaps. “Do you really think it’ll be that easy?”

“Of course not,” he mutters. “When have you ever let something go when you should have?”

Eliot stares at the vampire for another long moment, then turns and walks out of the alley. Spike has long since vanished, and he doesn’t much care if Angel follows him back to his apartment at this point. If he wanted to kill Eliot, he would have tried by now, and Eliot  _ can _ kill him if he needs to. It’s a little frightening how protecting his new team is more important than potentially preventing the end of the world.

True to form, Angel stalks half a step behind him all the way back to his place. The only reason he doesn’t follow Eliot through the door is because he hasn’t been invited. Eliot cheerfully shuts the door in the vampire’s face, then pours a drink from the bottle of whisky he usually reserves for pain medication. It won’t do anything for him―most human alcohol doesn’t―but he likes the taste and there’s enough of a placebo effect that he calms down a little.

He’s not stupid enough to believe Angel will give up. He just hopes that the fixation with him doesn’t lead the vampire back to his team.


	2. In Which Eliot Learns to Be a Team Player and Lindsey Makes Another Bad Life Choice

Thankfully, the next few jobs they take are out of town. He doesn’t like confronting his  _ (Eliot’s) _ past with Aimee, but Willie’s a friend and they can help. He likes Sterling even less, thinks Parker’s moniker of “Evil Nate” is entirely appropriate, but they finish the job and get away from Sterling and he fixes things with Aimee  _ (more or less; he would never have found a family with her, not really, but she’s right when she says he’s found one in his team). _

The team swears off rip jobs after Juan, after Nate and Sophie are trapped in a bank with two desperate men  _ (boys) _ with guns and an amoral judge who figures out the scam. Eliot itches to get in there and take all three of them down, ends up taking out his frustration on drug smugglers while Hardison and Parker pretend to be FBI again.

The Belgrade job might actually be the worst so far. Not only are kids involved, in another country where all their normal backup is reduced to bare bones, but Parker goes off the rails more than once and forgets that she has a team to rely on now.

_ (He doesn’t really blame her for that; he always thinks about the team as people to protect, not people to rely on, and it’s hard to adjust to the fact that you’re not alone anymore.) _

Somehow they rescue an entire orphanage of kids, and Parker is quietly amazed that she managed to do the right thing. It doesn’t last long, and she takes risks more and more often. They draw the line when it starts to put the team in danger too, and then “Alice White” has jury duty and everything goes to shit again.

* * *

It wouldn’t have been a problem, not really, would have just been a normal case, if Henry Louis hadn’t been a former employee of Wolfram and Hart.

He’d just been a clerk when the Firm crumbled, and not a very good one. Louis might be a lawyer now, but he’s being fed lines from a woman in a warehouse and he wouldn’t know how to deal when a courtroom goes off script. He would know Eliot’s face.

Lindsey was one of the most famous lawyers at Wolfram and Hart, after all, if not always for good reasons. Anyone who survived, even if they’d never met him, probably knew his face.

He stays out of the way, even when they need someone to play a lawyer. He could do it, he could even win this trial fair and square if he wanted to, but Eliot forgets about Lindsey and lets Hardison bullshit his way into the jury’s favor and beats up the bad guys.

They do win, but the whole thing chafes at Eliot and he goes for a run that night. He’s deliberately careless, taking shortcuts through darker parts of town and pretending not to notice the demons taking an interest in him. He also pretends not to notice when they suddenly lose interest at the same time he gains a single tail.

It irritates him; he’d wanted a fight, wanted the release of tension fighting for his life―and winning―would give him, but he didn’t want it with Angel. There’s too much history there; he’d only be more frustrated after dealing with the vampire.

But no demon would steal prey from Angel, not in his city, and Eliot resigns himself to either extending his run or picking a fight with a ridiculous amount of humans. He doesn’t count on Angel confronting him again.

The vampire lands right in his path, maybe a foot from him, and Eliot can’t really stop in time. Angel uses the momentum to spin them into another fucking alley, and Eliot comes right back at him with teeth bared. He doesn’t care that his speed is just outside of human range, doesn’t care that his blows land with more strength and accuracy than Lindsey’s ever did. He does care when Angel stops fighting him and starts dodging most of his hits; Eliot only fights until the other guy is out, and those instincts pull him back when Lindsey’s would have beaten Angel into the pavement.

He’s breathing hard, almost panting, more from frustration than exertion. The vampire is an unmoving obstacle at the mouth of the alley, and for an insane moment Eliot considers simply flying away. Flight or fight response. If he can’t get one, he’ll damn well get the other, and maybe it’ll do what the running couldn’t.

Thankfully, he tamps down on that impulse before he gives himself away, but now he has to actually deal with Angel.

“Hard day in court?” the vampire says mildly, mockingly, and Eliot nearly kills him at the thought of Angel watching his case, watching his  _ team. _ But Angel chose to follow him, to confront him alone instead of with the team, and he waits. Given enough time _ ― _ “Bit beneath your notice, isn’t it?”  _ ― _ Angel will just _ ― _ “Not at all like your old cases.”  _ ― _ talk himself into a corner. The vampire hasn’t been watching him, not that closely, or he’d know Eliot wasn’t anywhere near the courtroom. He knows about the case, but not about the team. Or doesn’t know Eliot’s on the team.

He’ll take the win.

“I told you,” he growls. “I’m not in that game anymore.”

Angel scoffs, and Eliot rolls his eyes. He doesn’t care if the vampire doesn’t believe him; he just wants to get back to his evening.

“Do you mean the legal game or the supernatural one?” Angel asks, stepping closer. Eliot eyes the space around him and wonders whether it’s worth Angel’s curiosity to get around him again. The vampire shifts like he knows what Eliot’s thinking, and then he’s got the smaller man pressed up against the wall  _ again. _

Clearly, Angel is less interested in actually getting answers and more interested in finishing what they started weeks  _ (years) _ ago. And Eliot _ ― _

Well. Eliot thinks this particular activity is a suitable replacement for a fight.

* * *

Angel had moved back into the hotel at some point after that last battle. Eliot  _ (more like Lindsey again, now, and it would be infuriating how quickly he regressed to that identity around Angel if he wasn’t more preoccupied with getting the vampire out of his clothes) _ doesn’t really bother to examine the place, see if it’s been repaired or fallen into squalor. Almost all of his attention is on the fingers in his hair and the skin under his hands and the noises he can wring from Angel with his mouth. 

He knows this won’t be anywhere near perfect happiness, knows there’s no real danger of Angel losing his soul from this, but decides to change that pesky curse anyway. Angel has saved the world multiple times, after all, and why the Powers or the Rosenburg girl didn’t lift that clause before is a mystery to Lindsey. The vampire doesn’t even notice the tweak that makes his soul permanent, and Lindsey is startled at how good it feels to use even a tiny bit of his power after all this time.

The sex is very good  _ (they’ve both lived a long time, after all, had a lot of practice, even if Angel’s been celibate for almost two centuries) _ and Lindsey almost feels like Eliot by the time he’s finished fucking the restless energy out from under his skin. He wonders if this will finally satisfy whatever obsession Angel has with him, or only make things worse for the both of them.

He falls asleep in Angel’s bed before he figures it out.


	3. In Which Eliot Realizes Some Uncomfortable Truths and Lindsey Refuses to Go Away

The buzz of his phone rouses him the next morning, and Eliot enjoys the stretch of sore muscles as he reaches for it. Hardison’s texting him details about the new case, as he always does before anyone even gets to the conference room, but Eliot doesn’t bother to read them. It’s always more fun to annoy Hardison.

He rolls out of bed, easily brushing off Angel’s attempts to keep him there. Sleeping with the vampire―in both senses of the word―last night probably wasn’t the wisest of decisions, but it’s done now. Eliot refuses to let it happen again; he needs to let Lindsey die for good.

He knew coming back to LA was a bad idea.

Eliot is dressed and out the door before Angel can stop him _(not that the vampire would ever be able to stop him from doing anything if he really wanted to),_ and Lindsey’s issues are buried by the time he enters the conference room with Nate and Sophie. He knows a trial would be more expensive than the client can afford, won’t actually help even if she wins, but still brings it up because he’s not supposed to know that much about law and it’s deceptively straightforward. They end up having to hunt for the guy _(though at least not across the entire continental US; that would take too long, even for him),_ a stressed-out addict going to his happy places, and Eliot just knows this case will hit far too close to home for Nate.

He and Hardison visit the taco stands, bars, and strip joints looking for the mark. It’s a ridiculous amount of low-class places, and Eliot’s ready to tear his hair out when Hardison spills _44 ounces of slushy_ on the floor of his car and he has to yell at the kid. The lid was fucking _floating in the floorboard._ It was _running into the backseat._ Between Hardison and Parker, it’s like dealing with actual children sometimes, _swear to God._

It’s a good thing three Mexicans show up and attack Hurley. It means Eliot can express his anger by beating them to shit instead of yelling insufficiently at Hardison. Who _will_ be washing the damn car, if Eliot has anything to say about it. 

* * *

Eliot thinks Sophie has a little too much fun playing Dr. Tanner to Nate’s alcoholic ‘Tom,’ but as long as she doesn’t lose focus on the mark he’s willing to let her. Parker gives them the address from the parking receipt so they can move the car somewhere private and search it.

Then Hardison sits on a bomb.

They waste precious seconds while Hardison panics and tries to move, and Eliot has to hold him still and figure out how to keep him alive. He lays back down and peers at the bomb, trying to see how it’s connected so he can _get rid of it_ while Hardison starts babbling about bricks.

“That only works in the movies,” Eliot growls.

“Bag of bricks is a good, sound plan!”

The display switches to a timer. He’s got two minutes to save Hardison’s life, and he’s never been more aware of his teammate’s mortality. Even the warehouse Dubenich blew up hadn’t hit him quite this hard, and he wishes to God he’d been the one to sit on the bomb instead. He could have told Hardison to run and took his chances.

“Yeah, we’ve got two minutes,” he says, both to update Hardison and keep himself focused.

“Two minutes?” Hardison shrieks. In any other situation, Eliot would tease him.

“Shut up! Focus!”

“You start with ‘the bomb has two minutes!’” Hardison is panicking, and Eliot needs him to think his way out of the problem so Eliot doesn’t have to, because his mind is a blank.

“All right, there’s wires running in the dashboard computer. That’s probably how it’s picking up the pressure sensors in the seat.” _Come on, Hardison._

“It―it’s, uh, a computer bomb. I-I-I know computers.” That’s it. One minute left. “Computer bomb, uh. We, we, we got to reboot the system. Yeah.”

Eliot stands up and stares at Hardison, shaking his hair back. “You want me to kick it?” He knows that’s not what it means, but it’s a combination of gallows humor and genuinely having a lapse in brain function from the terror currently freezing him.

“Oh, God, I’m gonna die,” Hardison moans. “No, just, look.” He reaches for the dashboard, and Eliot lunges forwards to stop him. Hardison holds one hand up and pops the hood. “Just, no, duck up under the hood and just tell me how it’s attached to the electrical system.”

Eliot does as he’s told, lets Hardison ramble because it calms him down, paradoxically. “What’s our margin for error here?”

“About half a second,” Hardison says. Eliot stares at him, horrified.

“Run the bag of bricks by me again,” he says.

“Are you ready?” Hardison says instead.

“No!” His hands are shaking, they’ve got a few seconds left, and he’s more terrified now than he’s been in centuries.

“Are you ready?” Hardison’s tone makes it clear that there’s only one right answer. Eliot swallows and reaches forward to grab the wires, hoping desperately that the shaking won’t rip them free too soon.

“Yeah,” he rasps. He’s lost track of time, doesn’t know how much―

“Go!”

He rips the wires free and backs away from the car as Hardison jumps free. They’re still alive a few seconds later, and Eliot allows himself to relax a little. He feels boneless with relief, lays down on the ground under the guise of retrieving the bomb so he can stand without his knees trembling. Hardison’s jubilant, revelling in the fact that he survived, and Eliot hides his smile under the car. Safely detaching the bomb, he gets to his feet and shows it to Hardison.

“Souvenir,” he says, and means _I’m going to find whoever made this and put it in their car._ He thinks Hardison would object to that, though, so he doesn’t say it out loud.

Of course, they haven’t been threatened enough today, so naturally the Mexicans from the bar show up, along with a bunch of Koreans. Hardison starts grifting, trying to convince everyone they’re all on the same side, while both gangs threaten to start shooting up the lot. Eliot fiddles with the bomb until it works the way he wants it to.

“Hold on,” he says, far calmer than he’s feeling. He holds up the bomb and shows it to the newcomers. “I got your bomb right here. All right?”

“Chileans,” the Korean leader spits.

“Never mess with Chileans,” the Mexican one agrees.

Hardison turns to Eliot and whispers, “You mean there’s more guys that want this dude dead?”

Eliot doesn’t answer. “I got this thing on a one-second delay. That gives me just enough time to make it up underneath that truck. Now, maybe I make it. Maybe I don’t.” He will make it. The trick will be getting Hardison under the truck first. “But one thing’s for certain: you all die. So let’s just calm down, and let’s back away.”

They do. Smart men.

“Hey, Eliot,” Hardison says. “When you said you were gonna dive under that truck, you were gonna drag me with you, right?”

Eliot gives him a disbelieving look. Had the kid even been paying attention? “...Sure,” he says. That question barely deserved a response.

“I’m serious, man!” Eliot ignores Hardison’s babbling and starts searching the car. The running monologues aren’t as distracting as they probably should have been; in fact, they’re almost...comforting.

Fuck, he’s in trouble.

This conclusion is reinforced when he and Hardison get to the rehab center. The family-only policy means Eliot has to pass himself off as Nate’s brother, and he’s trying to figure out a plausible story for Hardison when the guy apparently _loses his damn mind._

“I am _with him,”_ Hardison says, looping an arm through Eliot’s and pulling him closer. He freezes, at a complete loss to deal with this. “See, he thinks the flirting makes me jealous, but it doesn’t. You know, but if you was, like, Brad Pitt or Denzel or somebody, oh, girl, it would be on, seriously.” Hardison rings the bell on the counter and yanks at Eliot’s arm. “Bring your ass. _Bring your ass.”_

Eliot lets Hardison drag him away from the desk and the rather shell-shocked receptionist. Even when the younger man lets him go, Eliot can’t do much more than follow behind and try to get his head screwed on straight _(ha!)._ With everyone else still stuck in Second Act, he’s going to be with Hardison for most of this job. He just needs to think about everyone trying to kill them _(well, Hurley, but his team is going to get caught in the crossfire again, he knows it)_ instead of why Hardison chose that particular grift.

The two of them talk to all of the people on Hurley’s list, and Eliot thinks this guy is less of a criminal and more clueless and cursed with terrible luck. He’s focusing on the job, really, on all of the people trying to kill them, but it’s like Hardison’s act earlier destroyed at least half his self-control without even trying.

“What does that say about you?” Hardison teases. Eliot can’t help but lean in towards him.

“Hey, I’m a _bad guy,”_ he says. His tone is too flirty, and he’s cursing himself in the next instant, but Hardison just smirks at him before Sophie rushes out. The distraction allows Eliot to escape until they know the next step in Nate’s plan.

The next step, apparently, is to fake Hurley’s death with the car bomb _(and he quietly mourns the loss of that bomb; he’d been looking forward to returning it to the sender)_ and then retrieve the money from the tires. Eliot pretends to feel the heat from the burning rubber, but any human would have severe burns if they touched it as much as he had. He is his father’s son; fire has never bothered him.

The rest of the job is wrapped up neatly: client satisfied, mark(s) more or less taken care of. Jack Hurley is dead and off to Rosarito under an assumed identity. Now they just have to retrieve Parker from rehab, and they can all go home. He needs to figure his shit out before the next job; if he gets distracted at the wrong moment, his teammates will take the fall for it.

Parker on happy pills is weirder than normal Parker, but Eliot hopes that’s just because he’s getting used to normal Parker. She unexpectedly jumps into his arms, and he finds himself caught off guard for the second time because of this job. He _hates_ where his thoughts immediately jump to; bad enough he had a momentary lapse in judgement with Angel, worse that his behavior around Hardison was different the past couple days, but he absolutely does not need to add Parker to this mess.

Thankfully, no one seems to notice his inner lecture, and Parker leaves quickly enough to hug Hardison, but Eliot finds himself helpless to deny her when she slings an arm over his shoulders. He lets her drag him and Hardison to the car, only pausing to catch the bag Nate throws him. Passing it to Hardison, he bundles the two of them into the backseat and gets behind the wheel so there’s no chance of crossing any lines.

Eliot drops the others off at the office, then flees back to his apartment. He doesn’t want to bear witness to whatever fallout happens between Nate and Sophie, and he can’t stay around Hardison and Parker if he wants to salvage his sanity.

The sun hasn’t quite set when he parks his truck in the tenants’ garage under the building. While only vampires have that pesky sun allergy, most demons still don’t like moving about it broad daylight. Since Wolfram and Hart ceded the city to Angel and his people, there’s no protection in place for the demonic residents. All of which means that Eliot can’t go looking for another fight with a demon for another hour or so.

Of course, nothing says a demon can’t come looking for him, and he probably should have expected this confrontation after last time. Somehow, he’s actually surprised when Angel grabs him by the throat and pins him to the hood. He’s not as surprised when the vampire presses the full length of his body against Eliot’s and kisses him.

He’s not adverse to another night with Angel, even though he probably should be and _swore_ he wasn’t going to let this happen again. Lindsey’s problems are just as complicated as Eliot’s, but he thinks the team will leave LA soon, so he won’t have to see Angel again for a very long time. For now, though, it’s easier to shove away Eliot’s feelings for his team _(two teammates in particular, but he’s ignoring that particular issue until it goes away or something drastic makes him deal with it)_ and just let Lindsey’s mixed feelings about Angel take over for the moment.

That doesn’t mean he’s going to let Angel use him as a choke toy, though, and he’s twisting out of the grip even as he kisses the vampire back. A quick jab to the solar plexus makes Angel move back, even if he doesn’t need to breathe, and it’s Lindsey’s turn to pin Angel to the wall. Thankfully, the vampire seems okay with letting the smaller man be the aggressor, and neither of them really care that anyone could walk in and see them. Lindsey’s not about to invite Angel into his apartment, and the Hyperion is too far away.

The first time is over before Lindsey can think better of it. Night has fallen by then, and Angel is rather determined to get him in a bed. The vampire bundles Lindsey into the passenger seat of his own truck and steals his keys. He bitches Angel out about it, but that just makes the taller man drive faster. When they reach the hotel, Angel is ready to throw Lindsey over his shoulder if it means getting him to bed faster.

The second time still isn’t in a bed, but the third time’s the charm, and Lindsey finds himself reluctantly impressed by the vampire’s stamina. Angel certainly seems impressed with Lindsey’s, and the sex is much more exploratory than the last few times. Eliot knows he’s going to regret this in the morning, it’s almost inevitable, but no one has ever accused him of possessing healthy coping strategies.

_(“Healthy attachments, Lindsey,” Holland had said, and he’d wanted to laugh in the younger man’s face. He’s never had a healthy attachment in his life; if he had, he’d run from it a long time ago.)_

_(For all their differences from their Nephilim cousins, there’s still something off about his family. Not quite human, not quite angel, out of place in both worlds. Maybe they’re all broken in some way.)_

He stares at the ceiling of Angel’s room long after the vampire has fallen asleep. The tangled mess of feelings around Hardison and Parker comes back far too quickly, and he feels both hopelessly lost and more anchored than he’s been in centuries. He doesn’t know if it’s the colliding of his two lives, or the people in them, but it terrifies him almost as much as the bomb Hardison sat on earlier. He _can’t_ lose this new team.

The thought makes him feel like praying for the first time.


	4. In Which Eliot Has an Unexpected Family Reunion

Between avoiding Angel, trying to act normal around Hardison and Parker both, and dealing with Nate’s ‘functioning’ alcoholism getting worse by the day, Eliot is at the end of his rope. Something is going to break soon, and he just has to hope it won’t be any of his team.

_ (He’s been broken for a while; a few more cracks won’t make much of a difference.) _

It comes to a head when the rest of the team decides Nate needs an intervention. Well, Sophie decides, Eliot and Hardison agree, and Parker dutifully reads from the notecards. Of course, being them, it’s not the type of intervention that leads to rehab. It’s the type that leads to revenge.

Nate still claims not to be a thief, but even honest men crave revenge. Especially when the crimes committed involve people they care about. Eliot can’t criticize; he’s gone after people for far less. If he ever had a child, and someone let them die…

Well. There’s a reason he and his siblings are the most feared creatures in Heaven. Sometimes, he thinks even Hell is scared of them. Their parents might have been responsible for one apocalypse, but they could tear apart this world in seconds if they wanted to.

He shakes away those thoughts, focusing on the beautiful blonde in front of him.  _ (He can’t think about the other blonde he’d rather be talking to, has to focus on the job. If this woman is a distraction from the people he’s currently entangled with, then that’s just an unintentional bonus.) _ This party is their way in, to sell Ian Blackpoole the fake Second David so IYS, his own insurance company, can accuse him of fraud. They’re going to ruin this guy.  _ (He’s maybe a little too happy about this, but this team has become almost as dear to him as his siblings in such a short time, and if this helps Nate he doesn’t have a problem.) _ They’re about to kick things off when the blonde on his arm throws a wrench in the works.

“Nate?”

Nate turns, genuine surprise on his face. “Maggie?”

_ This could be a problem, _ Eliot thinks. “You guys―you know each other?”

“Of course,” Blackpoole says. He’s far too cheerful. “Maggie is Nate’s ex-wife.”

Eliot’s throat goes dry. “Oh.”

He can hear Hardison’s urging to stay in character, pretends like he’s never seen or heard of Nathan Ford before. It’s harder when Nate grips his hand hard enough for Eliot to actually feel the bones shifting minutely. Even with the whole team telling Nate to keep it together, they almost lose everything when he fumbles in front of Maggie.

Then the con becomes infinitely more difficult when she and Blackpoole demand that Maggie is allowed to examine the Second David. A fake won’t fool her; they’re going to need an original. Naturally, Parker is gleeful at the chance to break into a highly secure vault on a moment’s notice with improvised tools. Eliot almost has a coronary when she starts making out with Hardison, has to pass it off as juvenile humor to the others. He didn’t need to know what that sounded like, didn’t need to imagine what it must have looked like.

This team is going to drive him insane.

Maggie’s presence seems to be throwing everyone off their game, and Nate was already off because of Blackpoole. It really doesn’t help when she asks for ‘Adam Sinclair’s’ phone number, and Nate is still pissy about it hours later.

But they can work around that. Nate is supposed to be recognizable, that’s the whole point of the con. It’s when Nate starts yelling at Sophie that Eliot begins to doubt. The others can’t hear the conversation once it calms down, but he can. If Sophie is conning her own team, on something this big, things could go very wrong very quickly.

Eliot decides to trust that she knows what she’s doing. They all have secrets, all thieves not used to trusting others. He’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.

They almost have Blackpoole when trusting Sophie comes back to bite him in the ass.

There’s an extra man in the hanger, taking photos of the group. Eliot doesn’t bother being careful, waits until he’s almost on top of him to say, “I’m gonna count to three.”

Next thing he knows, he’s yards away on the floor, earbud knocked out of reach. He’s been pretending to be human for a long time, but that doesn’t make him so; no mortal should be able to move that fast or throw him this far. The man kicks him as he tries to get up, and Eliot feels several ribs splinter. They’ll heal by the end of the day, at least, but they shouldn’t have snapped in the first place.

“Now that rib’s broken,” the man says. Eliot manages to get to his feet. “He said you’d be tougher than this.”

Eliot’s first thought is  _ who said? _ Then he gets a good look at his attacker, takes a sharp breath, and ends up coughing from the effort.

_ “Quinn?” _ he says incredulously. Quinn pauses, looks more carefully at Eliot, and then his mouth drops open in surprise.

“Auriel?” Eliot winces at the name. It’s one only his family uses, and he hasn’t heard it since he left. Besides, it doesn’t really apply anymore.

“Sorry,” Quinn says. “I had no idea it was you.” He hauls Eliot to his feet, lets him get his breath back. The younger soldier might not be as powerful as some of their siblings, but Eliot remembers training him. “How’d I get the drop on you? I’ve never been able to do that.”

“Wasn’t expecting a family reunion,” Eliot says. He scoops his earbud up and back into his ear. Seeing one of his brothers again hurts almost as much as the blows to his ribs, but he’s got a job to do. “Nate, we’re blown. We’re blown.” He ignores Quinn’s raised eyebrow; if the kid comes at him again, he’ll be ready, broken ribs or not. Eliot trained him. He knows all of Quinn’s weak spots, and the other soldier knows it.

The comm fuzzes in and out, and then Sterling’s voice comes through clear as a bell.

“Mr. Spencer?”

“Hey, Sterling,” he growls. Quinn’s smirking at him. “I’ve got some dental work with your name on it. What do you say you and me hook up so I can give it to you?”

“Seems that Mr. Quinn was not as effective as promised,” Sterling muses. Eliot gives Quinn a look that promises pain if he doesn’t get the full story later. “Still, two birds in the hand are worth three in the bush.”

He snarls at Sterling’s laugh. “Eliot, stay low,” Nate says quickly. “Sterling, what do you want?”

Eliot doesn’t care. Sophie’s with Nate, and Sterling doesn’t have them, which means he has Parker and Hardison. He turns on Quinn, who stops smirking immediately.

“Start talking,” he rumbles.

Quinn does. “I’ve been working freelance, sort of separate from Eira’s group.”

“Aneira,” he corrects. Quinn flinches slightly, but Eliot doesn’t care. His sister deserves respect, even  _ (especially) _ from a soldier who no longer fights at her side.

“Aneira,” Quinn says. “They’re calling her the Morrigan now, you know.”

“Quinn,” he says warningly. The younger man hurries on.

“Sterling hired me to take care of you. Not permanently, there’s no kill order out on any of your team, but he asked for me specifically. I think he probably knows you’re not all human. He’s probably not all human himself.”

“He’s not one of ours,” Eliot says. Quinn shakes his head.

“No. Kind of the opposite, really.”

He keeps his groan internal. Demons, no matter how diluted the blood, are always a pain to deal with. Eliot hadn’t recognized Sterling for what he was, but Sterling hadn’t recognized him either. He just knew Eliot wasn’t fully human.

“What’s his play here?”

Quinn shrugs. “Just to arrest your team, I think. It’s not like he’s going to hand you over to Wolfram and Hart.”

Eliot throws another sharp look Quinn’s way, before the earbud clicks back onto a secure line.

“Eliot?”

“Nate.”

“We’ve got a plan.”

“...Am I going to like this plan?”

“Meet me at the offices.”

“Wha―the offices full of Sterling’s men?” Not that he can’t take them, even with his ribs still knitting themselves back into place, but Nate has a different idea.

“Yep. We’re going to think like Hardison.”

Eliot wants to push for more details, but whatever Nate’s plan is, it gets them both in the offices. Which, yeah, are full of Sterling’s men―but Hardison’s there too.

“Fine. What do you want me to do?”

* * *

He walks in after Nate, hears the exchange with Sterling. He wants so badly to hunt the demon down and rip him apart, but Parker and Sophie are making their escape and Hardison’s the one who needs him right now.

“Four guys?” he says. That’s just insulting. And then― “Six guys?” Are they even  _ trying? _

“See,” the goon in charge says. “He’s good, but he’s not that good.”

Eliot’s going to smite him.

“With a couple broken ribs and a concussion,” Nate says. “I don’t think Eliot can take out six guys.”

He can’t help it; he gives Nate a  _ you’ve got to be kidding me _ look. Nate sends him a hard glance that means  _ stick to the plan or I’ll kick your ass. _

It’s disturbing how much Eira and Nate have in common.

“You know, but then I thought: What would Hardison do?”

Eliot hits the button on the phone and takes great pleasure in agonizing pain Sterling’s men are now in. Between the three of them, it doesn’t take long before the goons are unconscious and tied up on the conference table. Nate taunts Sterling while Hardison rigs the place to blow, and they get everything important out.

“Wait, Eliot,” Hardison pants. He stops in the front room. “Eliot, come on.”

Eliot goes back in to see Hardison taking the painting of Old Nate down. “You’ve got to be kidding me, man.” Eliot takes one end of the painting and helps Hardison carry it out. He’s so whipped.

“Bring it out, come on.”

“This is just weird,” Eliot grumbles half-heartedly.

“I painted this,” Hardison says defensively. And it is a good painting, no matter how weird it is. Hardison will probably hang onto this for the rest of his life.

They’re free, Sterling has nothing but the two Davids―but they have to scatter. Lay low for at least six months. Eliot hates this, wants to keep his team together where he can protect them. But Nate’s given the order, and the others are prepared to cut all ties.

But not forever. It can’t last; Eliot knows this, feels it in his bones. Their team won’t be broken for long.

He’s still pissed at Sophie, though.


	5. In Which Eliot Has a Family Reunion and Lindsey Dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone, sorry about the delay. RL threw me a couple of curveballs, including my aunt's wedding. Thankfully, that's over and done with, plus NaNo's coming up, which means I'll be writing all sorts of things. This chapter was just something to tide you guys over and deal with Angel; if it seems a bit odd, it's because I literally could not get rid of him any other way. Seriously, I tried for ages. There should be only one more chapter to this story, to tie off season 1, and then we'll move on to the next.  
> A huge thank you to everyone who's stuck with me so far, and I hope this is worth it.

Eliot has gotten very proficient at hiding over the centuries. Usually, that means you don’t revisit places people know you’ve been. But he’s already broken that rule by coming back to LA, and he needs to talk to Quinn.

That doesn’t mean he has to like the meeting place the other soldier chose.

Father Paul’s church hasn’t changed from the last time he was here. Eliot glances at the statue of St. Nicholas as he enters, then makes his way towards the chancel. Quinn is in one of the front pews, staring up at the art. Eliot sits across the aisle, waiting for the younger man to speak.

“Do you ever get homesick?”

He doesn’t look at Quinn, instead staring at the cross―at the body nailed to it. “You gotta have a home to miss it.”

Quinn snorts. “Avoidance? Seriously? That’s not really your―”

“What are you still doing here, Quinn?” Eliot growls. He finally turns to look, sees fierce blue eyes staring steadily back at him. The two of them are so alike that Eliot sometimes wonders if they share the same father. But Quinn isn’t an archangel’s son, and despite his strength, even he can’t hold up under Eliot’s irritation forever.

“After the hanger, I called Aneria,” he admits. Eliot’s fists tighten, and he struggles not to lash out. “Standing orders, you know how it is. She keeps tabs on all of us. She told me to stick around, help you if you need it.”

“I don’t need your help,” Eliot snaps. He pushes his way out of the pew, and Quinn scrambles behind him.

“I’m not saying you do, I’m just saying―”

“Everything alright in here?”

Eliot turns to see Father Paul exiting the chapel. He should have protested the location when he had the chance. The recognition on the priest’s face makes him want to run.

“Hey, you’re one of Nate’s team, aren’t you?” Quinn looks between the both of them, and Eliot doesn’t answer. “One of the thieves that helped save my church.”

Quinn huffs out a laugh. Eliot is about two seconds from punching him.

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

That’s it. He’s going to set something on fire. Probably the vampire who just walked in. Quinn sends him an amused―if wary―look, and Eliot curses himself for being so obvious.

“Who are you?” Father Paul asks, attention on Angel. Eliot refuses to turn, as if Angel will go away if he pretends the vampire isn’t there.

“A souled vampire,” Quinn answers. “Angel, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Keep talking, Quinn,” Eliot growls. “See where it gets you.”

“There will be no violence in my church,” Father Paul warns. Quinn just laughs again.

“If he didn’t threaten me, I’d think something was wrong with him,” he tells the priest. “Just don’t cause a minor apocalypse,” he says to Eliot when he passes him. Eliot turns, faster than mortal eyes can follow, and grabs the back of Quinn’s neck.

“You better be gone by tomorrow, Quinn,” he says quietly.

“If I do that, you know she’ll just come find you herself,” Quinn says back, just as quietly. Eliot shoves him away and points a threatening finger at him.

“If I catch you following me―” he starts.

“I’ll get everything I deserve,” Quinn finishes dryly. “I’m not that out of practice, you know.”

“Go,” Eliot says. He doesn’t watch his little brother leave, instead turning back to the priest. “Sorry about that, Father. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“I don’t want to know, do I?” Father Paul sighs. He doesn’t wait for an answer, retreating to the chapel and leaving Eliot alone with Angel.

“Looks like you’re making all kinds of new friends,” the vampire drawls behind him. Eliot spins around and strides past him out of the church. Whatever happens next between him and Angel isn’t something that should take place in a holy building.

The vampire shadows Eliot for a few blocks, unusually silent, and he heads back to his apartment. He can’t let Angel keep corralling him back to the hotel; he’ll get the wrong idea.

Two blocks away, Angel  _ (as per fucking usual) _ crowds him into an alley. Eliot lets him, partly because he still doesn’t want to invite the vampire into his apartment. Part of it is desperation to forget what happened with his team, to lose himself once more in Lindsey’s mind. It’s addicting, being able to escape this way, even if it’s temporary.

It’s also dangerous as hell  _ (more so, really), _ and Eliot knows he’ll have to do something drastic before he leaves so Lindsey is buried once and for all.

“Don’t really remember you being a team player, Linds,” Angel says. He presses Lindsey back into the brick wall, leans into him. “A thief, maybe. But saving a church?”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you, Angel,” he snaps. “You don’t know anything about me. Not back then, not now. Whatever this is, between us, it will end. Sooner rather than later, if I have anything to say about it.”

“I know you pretty well,” Angel counters. He ignores the rest of Lindsey’s speech. “I made mistakes―”

_ “Mistakes?” _ Lindsey says incredulously. “You never bothered to look past your own petty assumptions, Angel. You never once actually tried. And then you had me killed.”

Angel winces, but moves on. “I’m trying to make up for that.”

“Make up?” Lindsey says blankly. “That’s―Angel, whatever you think is going on here, it’s not going to end the way you want. There’s no way for you to  _ make up _ for what you did before. We are  _ never _ going to trust each other, or even like each other. Yeah, the sex is pretty good, but that’s not exactly rare. Sooner or later, I’ll leave, and you’ll forget about me.”

“No, I won’t,” the vampire says stubbornly. Lindsey suppresses a sigh. “I couldn’t when you left LA the first time, or after Lorne…”

“Killed me,” Lindsey finishes ruthlessly. “You can’t even say it, Angel. You can’t even admit what you did to me. What you did to  _ him.” _

“I know,” he says softly. Lindsey eyes him carefully. Angel isn’t lying; he won’t forget about Lindsey, not without a little help. He hates mind magicks; they’re unpredictable and unreliable, and there’s no guarantee it would last. Spike saw him too, after all, and he doesn’t know who else the vampires might have told.

“In another life, this might have worked,” Lindsey murmurs. He’s no good at mind magicks anyway. If Angel’s memories of him are going to be tampered with, it needs to be someone who knows what they’re doing. “Come on.”

“Where?” Angel says. He’s wary, but follows the shorter man out of the alley anyway. Eliot doesn’t bother answering, just leads the vampire to a new club he’s been avoiding. If he had any other choice, Eliot wouldn’t risk drawing attention to himself this way.

But he cannot risk his team. Angel is too dangerous, even when he isn’t obsessed with someone.

There’s a long line trailing down the sidewalk, but Eliot walks right up to the door. The bouncer raises an eyebrow at him and his vampire shadow, while the people waiting to get in glare at them.

“Is Maze here tonight?” Eliot asks. The bouncer stares at him for another beat, then nods shortly. “Tell her Auriel needs to speak with her boss. As soon as possible.”

He hates using his family name, but it gets him what he needs. The bouncer sends his partner into Lux, and Eliot stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets. Angel’s practically plastered against his back, probably irritated that Eliot hasn’t given an explanation for what they’re doing here. The security guy comes back and unhooks the rope, nodding Eliot in.

Lux is loud, dark interior streaked with strobe lighting. He walks to the back, where Mazikeen is tending the bar. The demon is fonder of Aneira, but she’ll listen to him.

Hopefully.

“He’s upstairs,” she says shortly, not even looking up. “Careful where you take that vamp.”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t cause trouble,” Eliot says. He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t need to.

Angel follows him into the elevator, surprisingly compliant given how little Eliot’s told him. The doors open to the penthouse, a suited figure backlit against the windows. Eliot goes to the bar and pours himself a drink. Most alcohol can’t even give him a buzz; his uncle’s private stash is more than enough to get him drunk.

“You don’t call, you don’t write, and now you suddenly drop by for a visit,” Lucifer says. “With a date, no less.”

“He’s not my date,” Eliot protests. “I need a favor.”

“Why does no one just want a family reunion?” Lucifer asks dryly. He doesn’t wait for an answer. “What kind of favor?”

Eliot drains the tumbler and sets it down without refilling it; he can’t afford to be drunk during this conversation. “I need you to make him think I’m dead.”

_ “What?” _ Angel snaps, his head whipping around to stare at Eliot.

“That’s a bit drastic,” his uncle comments idly. “Why not just kill him instead?”

“Didn’t I introduce you?” Eliot asks, tone laden with sarcasm. “Meet Angel, vampire with a soul and Champion of the Powers That Be. If killing him was an option, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Any way in particular?”

“Wait, Linds―” Angel starts. Eliot talks over him.

“Tonight, at his hands―or teeth, whatever―probably after we had sex in an alley or something. I assume Maze is still terrifyingly proficient at procuring cadavers and staging crime scenes.”

“Of course,” Lucifer says. Angel is finally backing towards the doors, realizing that this meeting isn’t going his way. “I’ll even throw in a little sensory disruption―he won’t ever recognize you again, not even by scent or taste.”

Eliot finally allows himself to relax fully. This will kill Lindsey for good, and he should have done it a long time ago. Lindsey McDonald’s story ended in a bloody apartment, with two bullets in his chest. He is Eliot now, and he can have no more reservations about that.

Angel darts for the window, unable to open the elevator, and Lucifer moves even faster than Eliot. The vampire is out cold on the floor, and Eliot pours himself another drink.

“It’ll be done by morning,” his uncle assures him. Eliot nods, carefully not looking at the archangel.

“And the price?” There’s always a price, even if you’re not dealing with the devil.

“You keep in touch more often,” Lucifer says. When Eliot looks up, the exasperated expression is so much like Aneira’s he aches. “Not just with me, with my daughter and the rest of your siblings.” His face softens with his voice. “Angels aren’t meant to be alone, Auriel. You and your siblings even less so.”

Eliot swallows convulsively, jerks his head once in a nod. He can’t speak; he doesn’t know what would come out of his mouth if he tried. It’s enough to satisfy Lucifer, though, so he leaves the vampire to his uncle’s tender mercies.


	6. In Which Eliot Loses His Team

The ‘murder’ makes the news the following morning, and while it will likely go unsolved—most demonic attacks do—Lindsey is dead and Eliot just has to lay low for a while.

He stays in his apartment, mostly, unwilling to leave town until his team does. He stays in shape, practices his art, and only emerges to get food every once in a while. The pattern holds for three months, until the Two Davids exhibit opens in a week and Eliot is almost irresistibly drawn back to it.

The reason becomes clear when he sees first Hardison, then Parker, and then Sophie. Nate appears out of fucking nowhere with a getaway car, and it feels so good to be back with his team again.

The feeling doesn’t last long. When they get to Hardison’s place  _ (MC Hammer’s mansion apparently, the boy does not understand the meaning of laying low), _ the bitterness at Sophie rushes back, and it doesn’t take long before they’re all yelling at each other again. Some of it washes away when they work the crime like they used to, and Nate’s good at getting them to be a team.

“Why’d you come back?” he asks, and Eliot gives them the closest thing to truth he can.

“As annoying as you people are, I quit this crew when  _ I _ quit this crew,” he says. “Nobody makes me leave.” Not the crew, not his past lives, not his family. If God Himself came down and told him to leave, he’d politely tell his Grandfather to fuck off.

That doesn’t mean he’s not still pissed at Sophie, and it shows. Less at the fact that she put him in danger or betrayed him, but at the fact that she put Hardison and Parker in danger and hasn’t even bothered to apologize for it.

He calls Maggie as Dr. Sinclair, Nate hovering over him the entire time. It only gets more awkward when Maggie asks him for coffee, more eager than she apparently ever was with Nate. It makes Eliot defensive, agitated in a way he thought would never happen again  _ (this team has a way of bringing his true self closer to the surface than he’s been in a long time) _ and when Nate forces the button cam on him with a glare, he almost salutes.

The meeting with Maggie...does not go as planned. The speed with which she spots the button cam impresses him, but the ensuing conversation will have him cringing for years to come. He waits with the others as Nate talks to Maggie properly for the first time since their son died, listens to the plan, and marvels at how easily Maggie fits in despite not actually being a criminal. She’s the most honest person he’s met in years, but everyone’s morals flex somewhere, and the death  _ (murder) _ of her son is probably that point.

He sits with Hardison and Nate while the girls run the con, teasing both of them and trying to ignore Hardison calling him ‘baby.’ Moving the sarcophagus to the basement is the first thing that’s gone smoothly since Maggie showed up the first time, and they begin finalizing the plan when they get back to the mansion.

Eliot’s sitting by the fireplace, fixing some of the equipment, when Sophie finally comes to try and apologize.

“You need something?” he says, not looking up.

“I was just trying to make myself useful,” she says quietly.

“Yeah, well, last time you tried that, we had to blow up the office,” he bites out.

“That’s not fair,” she protests.

“I was just getting used to it,” he mutters.

“What? Having an office?” she tries to joke.

“Being part of a team,” he corrects.  _ Again, _ he doesn’t add.

“Look,” Sophie says. “I didn’t mean—you know, it wasn’t supposed to go down like that.”

Parker walks in, tosses a bag down next to him and looks between the two of them.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“Sophie, here, was just trying to apologize,” Eliot explains.

Hardison carries the painting of Old Nate in, and they ignore Sophie’s protests.

“She tried that with me earlier,” Parker says. “She kind of sucks at it.”

“Little bit,” Eliot agrees.

“Oh,” Hardison says. “Did she give you the speech about how we’re thieves, and about how this is what thieves do, and if we were in her shoes, we’d have done the same thing?”

“No, I think she was just getting to that part,” Eliot says mildly. He stands up and gives Sophie a long stare. “You apologized to him first, huh?” Not that he really minds; Parker and Hardison deserved her apology more than he did. “Why am I last?”

“I wasn’t apologizing!” Sophie protests again, then seems to immediately realize her mistake.

“That’s the problem,” he says, gentler than before. Sophie’s never had to apologize to people before, not for a long time, not when it mattered, so he understands that she might not be able to come out and say it. What’s important is that the sentiment is there and  _ true. _

“I just wanted to see if we…” Sophie says hesitantly. “If we were all okay with each other.”

Eliot hears the  _ I’m sorry _ beneath it, and Parker and Hardison do too, and just like that Sophie is forgiven. It’s ridiculous how good it feels now that the air has been cleared, how easy it is now to fall back into the team dynamic they had before.

Their plan goes off without a hitch, but it’s a bittersweet victory. They really do have to part ways now, right after they got back together, and it’s the first time since he left his family behind that Eliot feels conflicted about moving on.

“We had a good run,” he says, trying to convince himself that that makes this any easier.

“It’s time to move on,” Hardison agrees, and Eliot can tell that the hacker feels the exact same way.

“I’m going somewhere...else,” Parker says, smiling sadly. None of them know where they’re going from here, and the uncertainty isn’t as exciting as it used to be.

“Where you going?” Hardison asks Parker.

“Let’s see how hard you look,” she invites, and Eliot resolves to keep tabs on them both. Even if this team never works as a team again, he won’t let anything happen to these two.

Turning away from them is the hardest thing he’s ever done.


End file.
